Wind buffeted the church campus. Leaves scraped along the ground. Rain pelted the wooden rooftops of several weather-beaten buildings as lightening struck the earth. I pressed against the storm toward the sanctuary. Shoving the doors open, I shook water from my hair. I entered, and glanced at the clock on the wall. 5:30, still half an hour until youth group started. Thunder boomed above me, a gust swept under the doors of the church. Shivering, I walked the length of the aisle way, uneasy. My eyes rested on the preacher’s pulpit. I stepped up to it.

The lights flickered.

Shuddering, I placed my Bible on the podium. Thunder shook the room, books fell, thudding heavily. I turned. My unease began to grow. I jerked backward. A water bottle near my feet tipped over. Fear gripped me. Rain traced translucent rivers over the windows, whispers echoing across the church. I twisted, glaring at the casement. Listening to the droplets ping against the glass. I cocked my head, my gaze resting on the carpet.

I dropped to the floor, clutching the base of the pulpit. Another flash ignited the room. The light silhouetted a wavering shadow near the alter.

I was not alone.

My hands began to shake. I tried to convince myself that I must be seeing things. Whispers drifted around me, in tune with the pelting rain.

Footsteps, the swish of cloth, and breathing echoed in the pitch. A sudden stench of evil engulfed me. A wicked essence filled the sanctuary. A bolt turned the whole scene to white. I shrieked. Fear, electric in every pore.

I buried my face in my sleeves. Still screaming, I kicked out. I flattened my body against the pulpit, trying to become part of it. My lips moved in silent prayers. I had no doubt the presence in front of me was my enemy.

Terror clouded my mind. In the darkness I could just make out the form …

it beckoned to me.

I scrambled around the pulpit. My hands fumbling for anything I might use for protection. Something cold touched my finger.

The water bottle.

I grabbed the container and hurled it. Grasping the pulpit, I dragged myself to my feet. My fingers brushed across my Bible. A warmth spread over my body. Strengthened, I held the Bible out before me.

“Get out of here, in the name of Christ Jesus,” I shrieked, “I’m a child of God and you can’t harm me.”

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Well, you had me in the grip of your story-telling from the start. Good descriptions of the surroundings and the MC's fear. The sinister figure description is especially scary! Just a few misspellings here and there, but otherwise a very good story.